


Perhaps the Greater

by ScribeofArda



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Minor OC Death, tragic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeofArda/pseuds/ScribeofArda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine hunting party ends in tragedy as the shadow over Mirkwood grows, and Legolas is left with friend who has shattered in grief. Yet time does not stop, and they must all deal with the aftermath of what death brings to them. Maybe within it all, they can find some hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps the Greater

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was going to be another chapter in the Chapters of Mirkwood story, but it became a lot more to me, and I felt that I had to publish it on its own. I recently lost a close friend of mine, my old riding instructor and mentor, Helen. She died a few weeks ago, from terminal cancer, and though we knew it was coming it was still awful. This oneshot was mostly written by then, but I changed a few things afterwards.
> 
> This is upsetting, and tragic, and at points I felt like a horrible person writing this, but close to all character development comes from a point of trauma. Unfortunately, these things would have, and do, occur in Middle Earth, and they do in real life as well. It is tragic, and I would warn anyone who has lost someone close to them to be careful reading this, but there is hope at the end. At least, that is how I have written it.
> 
> Again, a reminder that this will be sad. But I will still say for you to enjoy it, if not in the usual sense of enjoyment. I hope you find something in it, whatever that may be. The title comes from a quote from Lord of the Rings, that Haldir says in The Fellowship of the Ring. If you do not recognise it, the full quote is at the end of the story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Belhadron and Amdar belong to me. All other characters, or the world they live in, are the property of the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien

The first inclination that something had gone wrong was the hurried knock on the door before it swung open, the elf behind not even waiting for his answer.

Legolas looked up from his desk, and any doubt that something had not happened was dispelled by the look on the elf's face as he stood in the doorway. "What is it?" he asked, setting down the quill he had barely used in the past half hour, and rising from his chair.

"A hunting party just made it back to the stronghold," said the elf, and Legolas noticed the grief etched onto his face. The elf continued. "They were attacked just south of the elf path by orcs."

Legolas stepped around his desk and motioned for the elf to continue as he hurried down the wide hall. "Have the orcs been sent back into the south?"

The elf shrugged slightly. "Possibly. We're not sure. But the party brought back injured." His voice, if possible, became even more inflected with grief. "We have one elf not expected to make it. They do not even dare move him from the clearing outside the gate."

Legolas cursed under his breath and sped up, reaching a swift jog through the stronghold, the other elf by his side. He keenly felt the lack of a quiver on his back, as he had left it hanging on the back of his chair in his study. He shouldn't need it, but still it was missed.

Legolas briefly stopped a soldier moving in the same direction as them. "Find my second, Belhadron, and send him to the gates. He should be on the practice fields with the novices." The elf nodded, and hurriedly changed direction. Legolas and the other elf continued down the corridors.

"Do we know anything else?" asked Legolas, quickly turning a corner and finally nearing the gates. The elf beside him shook his head.

"I came for all of the captains as soon as the party arrived. You were the furthest away, so I have not heard anything new." Already the other captains had probably reached the gates and the clearing outside, over the bridge spanning the Forest River.

The tension could be felt seeping through the air, sinking into the stone walls, as they neared the gates. The feeling was becoming more similar, whether it was the prelude to an attack deep out in the forests, or yet another patrol dragging themselves back to the stronghold after spiders or orcs or any other manner of creature that wished elves ill in these woods attacked.

Mirkwood was becoming darker, becoming the name that men had chosen to give it when the darkness first reached out from Dol Guldur. And though Legolas had always been a warrior, had had a bow pressed into his hands from the first moment he could wield it, he was now watching their army swell. More patrols were beginning to be needed, more elves to hold back the shadows, to protect their realm.

From what Legolas had gathered, from councils and his father's brief words in private, this was most likely to only be the beginning. Nobody stated it outright, nobody said it, but then nobody needed to, when the forests said it for them.

His father was worried. That Legolas knew, that he saw in the moments where they were alone and merely father and son. Thranduil did not say as such. He was King, after all, and the instinct to remain unmoved at all times ran deep, so that the realm could be upheld. But even with the centuries of practice that Thranduil had had at hiding just what he feared, he could not fully hide the worry from his son.

Legolas reached the gates with the other elf, and cursed under his breath. Many warriors were gathered in the clearing across the bridge. At the centre was the hunting party, distinguished by their weary, haggard faces, and the blood that coated some of them. Some of them were on the ground, with healers crouched over them. Elves, dressed in greens and browns with weapons at their sides, stood amongst them, some conferring with drawn faces, some lending support to the weary but unharmed members of the hunting party, and some merely standing there with blank gazes.

Legolas moved through the small crowd that was slowly dispersing as the wounded were beginning to be moved away. A group of healers were gathered, exchanging frantic words over one elf motionless on the ground, and Legolas supposed that he was the most grievously injured. He reached the other captains, but before they were able to even open their mouths in greetings, something changed.

It was as if something had bled out of the air around them, wrapping around their throats. The colour around them dimmed whilst remaining exactly the same, and Legolas turned with everyone else to where the healers were beginning to sit back, defeated.

The elf had died. He recognised the feeling in the air, the weariness permeating every elf, and Legolas found himself walking forwards. The other captains and himself moved towards the healers and the prone body on the ground.

One of the healers stood, and met them before they reached the elf. His face was drawn. "There was nothing we could have done," he said softly. "It was unlikely he would have survived the wounds that he received." He bowed slightly. "If you will excuse me, my Lords, there are others that I am still able to help."

Legolas and the other captains nodded, and the healer, wiping the blood from his hands, moved off. Slowly the others around the fallen elf moved away also, and the captains stepped forwards towards the prone body on the floor. One of the healers shifted, revealing the face of the elf, and Legolas suddenly stopped.

"Hir-nin?" asked one of the other captains, coming to stand at Legolas' side as he stood there, unmoving. She followed his gaze to the elf's face. "Do you know him?" she asked.

Legolas found breath in his throat, and nodded. "Someone find Belhadron and keep him away from here," he said, moving forwards and coming to a crouch beside the body. The elf, dressed in simple greens and browns, was still warm, but blood was smeared across his face and torso from deep wounds to his chest and head. His dark hair, matted with blood, had fanned out around his pale face. Someone had closed his eyes.

Legolas could hear movement behind him, and then someone stepped forwards with a sheet and gently laid it over the body, leaving it so only his face was uncovered. "Hir-nin?" asked a captain once more. "You know him?"

Legolas nodded once more. "He is Belhadron's younger brother," he said, his voice surprisingly detached. "Amdar."

A hush spread around the clearing, as if knowing the elf's name, who he was to someone else, made it all the more worse. It seemed selfish, that not knowing who had died made it easier, but to dwell too much on such things as names, when more elves were coming back wounded or not at all, was to break.

But this time Legolas knew him, knew what he meant to someone else that he cared for, and it was not as easy to become detached. He cleared his throat, remaining silent for a few seconds, and then stood.

"I need to find Belhadron before he sees this," he said to one of the other captains. "Can you-"

"We will deal with this," said the captain. "Other than…Amdar, there is nothing too serious. Go and find his brother." Legolas nodded his thanks, and turned to go and quickly find Belhadron. But he had only made it a few steps before he looked up, and saw the familiar shape of his second already hurriedly crossing the bridge.

Legolas hurried forwards, pushing through the warriors and healers still remaining in the clearing to reach Belhadron as he came onto the edge of the clearing. Glancing briefly behind him, he saw the captains and healers had formed a loose wall between Admar and Belhadron.

Legolas stopped Belhadron with one hand to the elf's chest. "Mellon-nin," he said softly. "Just…stop for a moment."

Belhadron came to a halt, looking bemusedly at Legolas. "What is it?" he asked. "What needs doing?" His eyes flitted around the clearing, and Legolas saw the moment that he noticed the covered body, and those still injured in the clearing. His eyes narrowed, and he looked back to Legolas. "What has happened?"

His voice was cautionary, but nothing more, and Legolas briefly wondered how exactly he was going to say this. "Belhadron," he said. "The hunting party was attacked, and…"

Belhadron's eyes darkened. "Who is it?" he asked. "Who has died?"

Legolas held Belhadron's gaze steady as he answered. "Amdar," he replied. "Belhadron, I'm sorry, but Amdar is dead."

Belhadron was silent, and then he pushed roughly past Legolas, marching forwards towards the loose group that had gathered around the elf's body. Legolas spun on one heel and followed him.

"Get out of the way," Belhadron said harshly as he pushed through the elves around the covered body. "Get out of the way!" He pushed through the last of them, and they stepped back, a few looking to Legolas as he quickly approached. Legolas shook his head slightly.

Belhadron, having broken through the last few people in front of the shrouded form, stopped abruptly. He just ground to a halt. His brother's face was tilted away from him, but he would recognise him anywhere. This was the child he had been an older brother to, and as such his face, his shape, the way he moved was imprinted into his memory. He could pick Amdar out of a crowd without any effort.

But his brother was coated in dark blood, his hair matted and tangled, and his skin pale. Someone had shut his eyes. Elves shouldn't sleep with their eyes shut.

His knees gave out from beneath him, and he fell down next to what had once been his brother. He was aware of someone crouching beside him, of a hand on his shoulder, but he was aware of it in the same way that he was aware that there was snow on Erebor this time of year: it was distant, and did not in any way affect him.

Belhadron didn't know how long he knelt there, merely watching his brother. A small part of him, that was growing even smaller by the second, was hoping that this was a dream, and that his brother would start breathing again. The larger part of his brain was mocking that part, mocking the small part of him that was still naïve, no matter how much he saw.

"Belhadron."

He looked up as he heard his name, and then turned his head to one side slightly, so he could see Legolas out of the corner of his eye, but still see Amdar.

"They need to take him," Legolas said, his voice soft, and Belhadron felt a curl of anger rise in him at the pity in Legolas' voice. But it was smothered ever so quickly by the dampening guilt, and in another few moments, he forgot of it.

A few elves moved to the other side of the body, and gently, after briefly looking at Belhadron as if for permission, picked him up and placed him on a stretcher they had brought over. Belhadron was left on his knees, staring at the patch of grass where his brother had died.

He made an aborted move towards Amdar, and Legolas' hand tightened on his shoulder, keeping him in place. "Let them take care of him," he said. "For now."

Belhadron rose to his feet, nodding stiffly. With a shrug of his shoulder, he slipped from Legolas' grasp, and then swiftly moved in the opposite direction to the healers bearing the stretcher, shouldering through the elves and swiftly disappearing.

Legolas held back a sigh. One of the other captains came to stand beside him, and then he did sigh, pushing his long hair out of his face.

"Were they close?"

Legolas inclined his head. "As close as two brothers usually are, I think," he replied. He sighed heavily. "Amdar followed Belhadron in the footsteps of becoming a warrior, which Belhadron was never too happy about. He was always protective of Amdar, and would have preferred him to follow a safer path. But Belhadron loved him. That I am certain of."

The captain nodded. "Will he be alright?" he asked. Legolas looked over at him, and the captain shook his head slightly. "Obviously not now, but will he be able to come back from this?"

Legolas held back another sigh, and shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know what is in his head at the moment."

The captain clapped him on the shoulder. "Then you'd better go find out." Legolas nodded, and stepped forwards to follow Belhadron's path. He glanced down at the grass, and the blood looked black in the weak sunlight.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas moved swiftly, following Belhadron's path, but his second had always had a knack at disappearing, and it was not for a while until Legolas found him, out on one of the far archery fields that was rarely used. He could hear the thump of some sort of blades, what sounded like knives, hitting a target, and he sped up, quickening into a jog.

Belhadron was standing at one edge of the clearing, a bandoleer of knives across his chest. As Legolas watched he pulled one more out, and sent it flying at the target opposite him. There was some skill in his throw, but it was innate, the skill that had been drilled into all elves who had weapons placed into their hands. Most of all, Legolas saw the raw fury and pain that had been forced into the knife and remained there still, as the hilt quivered in the target.

He moved out into the clearing. "Belhadron," he called out clearly, and the elf turned towards him.

He hadn't been crying. His face was twisted in grief and pain and a thousand emotions that Legolas could barely guess at, but his eyes were dry. Another knife appeared in Belhadron's hand and without a word he turned back to the target.

Legolas stepped forwards. "Belhadron, stop," he said, and he moved to stand in front of the target. An array of knives was already pinned there, scattered across the painted straw coil. Legolas briefly glanced at them, knowing that Belhadron was nowhere near his right mind for his knife work to be so sloppy.

But then Legolas doubted that there was such a thing as a right mind for Belhadron at the moment. He had every right to, at the very least, have sloppy knife work.

"Go," said Belhadron shortly, balancing the knife in his hand. "Just…Just go."

Legolas shook his head. "I'm not going to just leave you here," he said. "Not like this."

Belhadron's lip drew up in a snarl. "I don't need your pity," he choked out. "What can I do with that? Tell me that, Legolas. What can I do with all the pity and sympathy that everyone is throwing my way? Will it bring him back? Will it make this all go away? Because if not, I have no use for it."

Legolas stepped forwards slightly. "You're grieving," he said softly. "But mellon-nin, come back with me. You cannot stand here and throw knives for all of the day."

"Can't I?" Grief spasmed across Belhadron's face again, and he flipped the knife so that the point was held between two fingers. "Why not? There's nothing else I can do." He stepped forwards, and in the afternoon shadows his eyes darkened to near black. "Get out of the way."

Legolas shook his head. "Not unless you are coming back with me."

"Get out of the way!" Belhadron was shouting now, the knife balanced between his fingertips. "Move, or I will just throw this regardless."

Legolas merely held his ground. "You will not," he said softly. "Because I know you, and I know that you don't actually know if you could keep that knife steady enough to avoid me. And you will not throw that if there is a risk I will be hit."

Pure rage flashed across Belhadron's face, and for a moment Legolas thought he was mistaken, but then Belhadron turned and hurled the knife into the ground, where it stuck fast. He sighed raggedly, and looked back at Legolas.

"Just leave," he said. "Just go."

Legolas, once more, shook his head. "I'm not going to leave you," he said, his voice still quiet. He didn't really know what it was he was meant to be doing. There was absolutely nothing he could do to lessen the grief for his friend, and if there was, he did not know what it was, nor how to do it. So he just stood his ground and waited for the inevitable.

Belhadron spun on one heel, his face contorted with anger. "Why not?" he shouted. "Why can't you? It's not that difficult to walk away!"

Legolas scoffed. "Do you really think that, or are you merely saying it so that I will leave?" Belhadron said nothing, and Legolas nodded. He stood his ground, taking a few steps towards Belhadron. "I'm not going anywhere."

"And why should that change anything?" Belhadron shouted at Legolas. "Why should that even matter? Tell me, Legolas, because I really wish it could, I really wish you could do anything at all, but you cannot! There is nothing you can do!"

"Why not?" asked Legolas.

"Because he is dead!" Belhadron screamed. "And there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that you can do to bring him back!"

And that, it seemed, was what did it, this simple declaration that was not in any way simple at all. Belhadron's chest heaved and then he crumpled forwards, his face twisting in grief and tears spilling onto his cheeks. As if released from bonds Legolas sprang forwards, quickly closing the gap between them and catching Belhadron, encircling him in his arms.

There was no strength left in Belhadron anymore, and the two elves ended up on the green grass together, the bandoleer of knives forgotten beside them. Belhadron trembled in Legolas' arms as he sobbed, and Legolas shifted slightly to gently pull the dark hair away from Belhadron's face where it was resting on his shoulder.

"He's dead," murmured Belhadron brokenly through his tears. "He's dead."

"I know," said Legolas softly. He tightened his arms around his friend and Belhadron started to shake, great sobs racking his body as he grieved for his little brother.

0-o-0-o-0

For a long time both stayed silent on the grass floor of the clearing, tears falling in a steady flow down Belhadron's cheeks. Legolas had one hand wrapped around his back, and the other holding his head steady as Belhadron pressed his face into Legolas' shoulder.

After a long while, with the sun beginning to sink behind the trees and cast long shadows across the field, Belhadron eventually stilled, the sobs quietening until it was silent, though tears still fell down his cheeks onto Legolas' tunic. He raised his head slightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice was hoarse, and even as he spoke he had to hold back a choked whimper as he remembered once more just what he was crying for.

Legolas shook his head. There were tear tracks on his own face, and he brushed them away. "You have no reason to be sorry," he said softly. "Come on. Let's get back inside."

Belhadron nodded. With a sigh, he shifted so that Legolas could get to his feet. Legolas offered a hand, and Belhadron grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet. He wavered slightly, is head spinning, and Legolas put an arm around his shoulders to steady him.

They began to walk slowly back to the stronghold, Legolas leading them on paths that would avoid most other elves. The few that they saw stepped out of the way and bowed respectfully. Legolas nodded back. Belhadron seemed too dazed to even notice them.

"Legolas." One of the captains came up to them. She glanced over at Belhadron, and bowed her head slightly. "I am sorry, Belhadron," she said. "But I have heard the reports from the party, if you want to know."

Belhadron looked up, and nodded. "Tell me," he said. His voice broke, and he paused for a moment. "Tell me how my brother died."

The captain nodded, and went into an empty room to one side. Belhadron and Legolas followed her, and the door softly swung shut behind them. The captain turned to face them.

"I want you to know that there was nothing that any elf in the party could have done," she said. Belhadron moved back and leant against the edge of the desk in the room. He nodded for her to continue.

"The party was overrun by a large party of orcs two leagues south of the elf path. They had enough time to get into defensive positions, but the orcs broke through and there was not enough time for all the elves to get into the trees. Amdar was covering the wounded as they were getting out of immediate danger, and he was unable to get to safety in time. The others drove the orcs back and pulled him out, but the wounds sustained were too severe."

Belhadron's face paled, and he had a tight grip on the edge of the desk behind him. Legolas shot him a concerned glance, but Belhadron merely shook his head with a grim face and motioned for the captain to continue speaking.

She shook her head sadly. "If it means anything at all, Belhadron, then Amdar died bravely. He died trying to defend his realm, which is probably how we may all die in the end. And because of him, there are other elves still alive."

Belhadron shook his head. "But my brother is not," he said. "Somehow, that is a little more important to me right now."

"Belhadron," chided Legolas softly, but there was no heat to his voice. The smallest of quirks appeared at the corners of Belhadron's lips, but it soon disappeared, replaced with grief. He heaved a sigh, and seemed to take a moment to compose himself before looking back at the captain.

"Thank you," he said softly. "If a messenger could be sent north to my parents…"

"It will be done," assured the captain. "It is but half a day's ride." She turned to Legolas. "I actually meant to speak to you as well, hir-nin. The King has ordered the orcs to be hunted and driven out, at the least. We have our orders, and we must follow them."

Legolas glanced at Belhadron, unwilling to leave his friend at this time. But Belhadron merely shook his head. "Do not let me become a reason for you staying behind," he said, his voice strong, if hoarse. He opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but then paused, and merely shook his head once more.

Legolas watched him for a moment more, and then nodded. "What time do we leave?" he asked the captain.

"Tomorrow morning," she replied. "We will leave at first light, but I can organise the company and drop the outline of the plan of with you a few hours before we leave." She glanced once again at Belhadron. He nodded shortly, his mouth set in a grim line. Another tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn't make an effort to wipe it away. It fell, soaking quickly into the deep green of his thick hunting tunic.

"I am sorry," she said again to Belhadron. "It was not something Amdar deserved. If you would like, you can see him now."

Belhadron choked on his words, and momentarily buckled, before pulling himself up straight again. "Thank you," he said softly. The captain nodded, with a sympathetic smile, and then turned and left.

The door swung shut, and instantly Legolas turned to Belhadron, who was nearly doubling over once more. Legolas pulled him into a fierce embrace, and almost instantly Belhadron reached out and clung onto his friend, a whimper forcing its way out of his throat.

Legolas felt Belhadron grasp at him, and he unconsciously held on tighter, trying to will himself to protect his friend as best as he could. "It's alright," he murmured, a litany of what he hoped would be comforting words, and he rocked back and forth slightly. Belhadron's face was pressed into his shoulder, and Legolas could feel the tears soaking into his tunic.

"It's going to be alright," he murmured once more.

0-o-0-o-0

"I'm sorry."

It was the first words that Belhadron had spoken for a while now, sitting in the lone chair beside the bed. Nobody answered him, for they had left the room when he had first sat down.

Amdar lay in front of him. And yet it was not his brother, for he had died on the grass outside just a few hours ago. This was nothing but a shell of what his little brother had once been. But it was the closest Belhadron could be to his brother without entering the Halls of Mandos himself. It may be selfish, but that was not something he was prepared to do.

The blood was gone, but Belhadron could still smell it in the air, the coppery tang that was beginning to become familiar. His gaze flitted over Amdar's temple, the edge of a deep gash that disappeared beneath hair from which the blood had been cleaned. He knew more wounds covered his chest, and for what would be the first time of many, Belhadron cursed the light armour that they usually wore on hunting parties or patrols.

His throat worked, and then he leant forwards, resting his forearms on his knees. "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice hoarse. "This shouldn't have happened to you."

Belhadron laughed bitterly at himself. "What am I saying?" he murmured. "How does that in any way mean anything? It happened, whether it should have or not, whether you deserved it or not, which you certainly didn't."

He laughed again, and halfway through it turned into an ugly sob. Belhadron looked away, blinking fiercely. After a few moments, he sighed heavily and turned his gaze back to his brother. He had promised himself that he would not look away. He owed his brother that much.

"I was only young when you were born," Belhadron said softly. "Ai Valar, it was only just over a century ago. I was here, training to become a captain, like Adar before me, and then a messenger came and I rode home. And there you were, in our mother's arms, and I was a brother."

"I did not even have to be told to look after you," Belhadron said softly, and tears spilled over and began to run down his cheeks. "Nobody had to tell me. That was my job. That was always my job."

"I remember when I came of age, and joined the guard here. I remember you screaming at me when I left, telling me that I was risking my life and that I did not have to go." He smirked slightly. "You always exaggerated things. It did not take too long for you to follow me."

The smirk, small as it had been, faded from Belhadron's face. "It didn't matter where I was. It never mattered. All you ever had to do was call for me, and I would have come." He dropped his head into his hands, a sob tearing from his chest. "I would have always come for you, if you needed help. It was my job. You are- you were my brother."

"And I failed." The statement was made quietly, and Belhadron looked back up at his brother.

"I failed you. I promised you, I promised myself, that I would always look after you, even when you thought that you did not want nor need it. That was my job. I just wanted you to be safe."

He laughed again, but it was full of scorn and bitterness, and at the same time more tears slipped down his cheeks. "Look how well I managed that," he spat out. "Look at how I failed you."

He was silent for a few long minutes, his gaze not leaving his brother's ashen face. Belhadron appeared frozen in time, and it was a strange feeling, and something he was not sure if he liked. It would be easier if everything stopped, he thought, but then at the same time a part of him wished to merely continue. He did not know.

Eventually Belhadron moved, running one hand down his face in a futile attempt to wipe some of the tears away. His voice was still hoarse, but there was a strength slowly seeping back into it.

"I was always so proud of you," he said softly, and there was no mistaking the raw and painful love spilling out into his voice. "Adar and Naneth will say their own when they arrive, but for now, little brother, let me tell you that I have always, and will always, love you. And I know that sounds like something you would hear in the old tales, and if you could, you would cuff me around the head for saying it so outright, but the tales were recorded for a reason, I think. There's far worse to fall back upon at this time."

Belhadron sighed once more. "I broke all of my promises to you, I think," he said. "All of the promises to keep you safe, to keep you protected, all of those. All apart from one. Maybe. I don't know."

"But I will keep it from now on." Though the tears flowed down his face, and his voice was falling hoarse, there was a subtle strength in it that maybe had not been there before. Belhadron cleared his throat, not bothering to wipe the shining tracks from his cheeks. They would soon be replaced.

He remembered making this promise a long time ago, when Amdar was a child still, and he was leaving their home for the first time to become a warrior, to become what his brother would follow him to be. And he may have already broken it. He didn't know. But he would try to keep this one promise now, even if it came far too late.

"I was always proud of you, little brother," he said, his voice gaining strength, if still far from stable. "I promise I will do everything that I can to make you proud of me."

0-o-0-o-0

"Drink this."

Belhadron looked up from where he had been staring at Legolas' carpet. "What?"

Legolas pressed an earthen cup into his hands. "It's just water," he said. "But you probably need something to drink." He waited until he was sure Belhadron a grip on the cup, and then drew back slightly, watching his friend.

It was nearly dark. Belhadron had sat beside his brother for an hour, nothing more, and then had returned with Legolas to the blond elf's rooms, stopping off to fetch a change of clothes and Belhadron's weapons. His friend had seemed a little better when Legolas had gently knocked on the door of the chambers, but now Belhadron was back in a daze.

Legolas held back a sigh. He had realised, as they had made their slow way back through the stronghold to his chambers, that pity was something Belhadron currently despised. Legolas thought that the such obvious sympathy merely made the grief even more raw, rather than acting as a comfort. As Belhadron had said, the pity could not bring his brother back.

Belhadron slowly raised the cup to his lips and drank. Legolas sat down in a chair opposite. "I'm going to be a little blunt," he said. "How are you?"

Belhadron actually smirked a little. "That isn't a very blunt question," he said, glancing up at Legolas briefly before looking back down and taking another sip. He shrugged. "He's dead. I was meant to protect him, and I did not." Legolas made to speak, and Belhadron held up one hand. "Oh, I know it's not my fault. I was not even there to protect him. Does that make it worse?" He chuckled bitterly. "I don't even know anymore. I don't know." A few more tears slipped down his cheeks, and he briefly buried his head in his hands.

"You are not to blame," murmured Legolas. "And I do not think there was anything you could have done, at any point, to prevent this. You have seen the darkness encroaching. I didn't know Amdar too well, but I know that he would have not stood by and watched the realm become more damaged without trying to do something about it."

Belhadron laughed bitterly. "That sounds like him," he said in a soft voice. "He always followed me into everything. And he always had such a sense of what was right, what should be done." He fell silent, gazing across the room and at nothing at the same time.

"Time has not stopped," he murmured.

"Should it have?" asked Legolas, his voice quiet.

Belhadron half laughed bitterly. "My brother is dead. Yes, it should have. Instead, everyone just kept…going." It was like he was standing in a river, he thought. Everything else was rushing around him like foaming water, and by all rights he should be moving with the flow as well. It was certainly tugging at his legs. But he remained rooted to the riverbed, unable to take a single step. He was not sure if he wanted to or not.

"That is what time does, mellon-nin," said Legolas wearily. "It keeps going. But I think Amdar knew what he was doing, by all accounts. I think he knew what may well happen. And he still chose to protect the wounded. I think he thought you would be proud of him for that."

Belhadron was silent, and Legolas feared he had said the wrong thing, but then the dark haired elf merely shook his head and laughed bitterly. "I have always been proud of him. Always. I just wanted to keep him safe."

"You did everything that you could," said Legolas softly, reaching forwards and grasping Belhadron's shoulder, grounding him. "And you are not to blame." Belhadron nodded, and reached up to grasp Legolas' hand. After a few moments, Legolas moved so he was sitting next to Belhadron on the bed.

Belhadron sighed deeply, and then leant into Legolas, resting his head on Legolas' shoulder. "I'm so tired," he murmured. "I'm so…"

"I know," murmured Legolas, putting one arm around his friend. "I know. You're staying here tonight. I will have to leave before dawn, but I will wake you up before I go." Belhadron nodded, but exhaustion was already claiming him, and he didn't bother answering.

Legolas nudged his friend, and Belhadron wearily removed his hunting tunic and boots, placing his sword carefully by the side of the bed. Within a few minutes he was asleep on his side, lying on top of the covers.

Legolas stayed awake for a while longer, making sure that Belhadron, whose eyes were nearly shut in grief and exhaustion, was staying asleep and not straying into the realm of nightmares.

0-o-0-o-0

When Belhadron first woke, he thought it was a dream. For a few seconds, he did not believe what his mind was pushing him to remember. And then he saw Legolas above him, gently shaking him awake, and noticed the armour he was wearing, the dark bow over one shoulder.

Belhadron sat up slowly, and ran a hand over his face. "What hour is it?" he asked, and he was surprised to find his voice even hoarser than yesterday, if what he remembered was true. Apparently Legolas thought so too, for he was not in such a daze to miss the wince on his friend's face when he spoke.

"An hour or so to dawn," replied Legolas. "I have to leave soon. The party will be assembling in a little while outside the gates."

Belhadron nodded, and as the haze of sleep cleared away to a simmering anger he had not been present enough to feel yesterday, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for his thick hunting tunic and sword belt. Standing up, he buckled the belt on, his sword sitting familiarly at his waist.

Legolas watched him for a moment, before speaking. "You cannot come with us," he said softly.

Belhadron looked up abruptly. "I think I have every right to be part of the company," he said, and in a stark change from yesterday his voice was brittle steel, still able to snap, but piercing nonetheless. "I do not want to stay behind like a child, hiding in the stronghold and waiting for any news that deign come our way. I am a warrior, I am your second, and I will act like it, whether you want me to or not."

Legolas shook his head. "I cannot let you go, mellon-nin," he said, sympathy rising in his voice. Belhadron felt the simmering anger come to a boil, and he snarled under his breath.

"I am not glass!" he shouted. "I am not yours to arrange where I will look best, and I will not shatter with one wrong move! I told you before, Legolas, I have no use for yours or anyone's pity. So stop treating me as if I will fall apart if you say something too harshly. I am not so fragile!"

Legolas was shocked into silence for a moment, and then raised one eyebrow. "I am sorry?" he offered.

Belhadron scoffed. "Pointless words," he said. Seeing the expression on Legolas' face, he shook his head. "Not that I do not know what you mean, and not that I am grateful for it, in some way. But the words 'I'm sorry' I have already heard many times. I will likely hear them many more times over the next few days. The words have already lost most of the meaning they have ever had."

"I'm-" Legolas stopped, and then half smiled. "I wish I could do something." Belhadron made to speak, and Legolas stopped him. "Apart from allowing you to come with me. You are off active duty until I return."

Belhadron growled under his breath. "What do you expect me to do?" he asked.

"Stay with your parents," said Legolas. "Bury your brother. If you want to stay busy, you can help train novices or the young warriors. There are new weapons that the smiths have produced that need testing. But I will not have you risking your life hunting down the orcs that killed your brother. And that's an order."

Belhadron growled once more under his breath, but he did not push Legolas. Part of him was glad that an order was given to him. It made things easier, in a way. He didn't have to choose.

Still, he was reluctant unbuckling his sword and leaning it against the wall once more. "How many are going?" he asked. "Which other captains?"

Legolas merely handed over the plans, which Belhadron read through with a critical eye. "They're fine," he said. "But you shouldn't be scouting. Leave that to the actual scouts."

Legolas looked faintly amused. "Why not?" he asked. "I can still scout ahead. We need to actually know where the orc party is."

"It's not safe," replied Belhadron, rolling the plans up and handing them back. "You have to be safe." To his annoyance, he felt his eyes stinging slightly, and he roughly ran the back of his hand across his face.

"Nothing we do outside this stronghold is safe," Legolas pointed out. "You know that. We put our lives in danger precisely so that others do not have to. It's not a safe life. But we wouldn't do anything else." Belhadron had always been cautious, particularly of Legolas' safety, but he had never asked Legolas not to do something because it was unsafe. Belhadron knew him too well for that.

Belhadron attempted a crooked smile; it came out more as a grimace. "Just humour me," he said, and the crack in his voice was barely noticeable, unless, like Legolas, it was being listened for, and then it became apparent. Belhadron paused momentarily. "Make sure you stay as safe as you can be."

Legolas nodded, and together they headed for the door, moving out into the corridor and towards the gates of the stronghold. "I will try," he said, but he made no promises. He knew how easily a stray arrow, or a blade at just the wrong angle, could end them.

For the rest of the walk they were mostly in silence, Belhadron checking over the plans once more, and then Legolas' own weapons, ensuring the arrows in his quiver would all fly true. At first Legolas protested slightly, but with a fierce and yet slightly pleading gaze from the dark haired elf beside him he subsided.

They reached the gates of the stronghold and Belhadron, almost without realising, balked. Legolas came to a stop and stood in front of him blocking his view of the grassy clearing where his brother had died yesterday. "You do not have to come out," he said.

Belhadron took a shuddering breath, and then shook his head. His anger had dissipated walking with Legolas, and he could not hear any pity in the blond elf's voice now. "I am fine," he said softly. He walked forwards once more, his shoulders set in deep tension, before coming to an abrupt halt at the end of the bridge.

Legolas didn't even pause. He seemed to have realised what the best strategy was, after comforting words only got Belhadron a few yards. He walked past Belhadron and onto the clearing, looking around at the elves already gathered there. Legolas glanced back, seemingly unbothered by his friend merely standing there. "Do you have the pack that I gave you?" he asked.

Belhadron drew in a breath, and the world seemed to snap back into view. "It's here," he replied, and he stepped forwards onto the grass, walking swiftly over to Legolas. He resolutely avoided looking at the grass. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief.

The elves around them grew quiet as he came into the clearing, and more than a few of them bowed their heads to him. Surprisingly, Belhadron did not feel annoyed or irritated. He only felt quiet now as he nodded back to them. Perhaps that had been all the anger that he had possessed. Perhaps he had realised that Amdar had always hated it when he had been cynical. He didn't know.

The sun rose quickly, and in what seemed like little time it was dawn. Legolas was speaking with one of the captains who had come to see them off when a hush fell on the gathering crowd, and he turned to see his father, King Thranduil, crossing the bridge. The captains, at a nod from him, gathered together.

The King spoke quietly, yet the gravity did not leave his voice. "This is not a revenge mission," he said to the captains. "Remind your company of that before you leave. We lost an elf to these orcs, but do not let that allow for reckless moves. I do not want anyone else lost to them. If that means that you must retreat, then so be it. I shall expect word in a week."

The captains nodded, and dismissed, they moved off to their final preparations. Legolas lingered for a brief moment, and it was Thranduil now who looked at him.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

Legolas' gaze flitted over to Belhadron, who was standing with his back to the clearing, watching the forest. A few stood by him, talking, but it was obvious he was not really listening. "Keep an eye on him," he murmured to his father. "He shouldn't do anything foolish, but I still dislike leaving him so soon after his brother's death."

Thranduil's face became concerned. "Will he be alright with you gone?" he asked. He did not bother asking if it was the wrong thing for Legolas to leave, because he knew there was nothing he could do if it was, and that the realm came above the grief of one elf. But even though he had seen this many, many times before, he still cared.

Legolas shrugged with a wry smile. "I think he trusts me to find some sort of vengeance on his behalf," he replied. "At least, that is what I am going to try to do."

"Be careful," warned Thranduil. "You also are close to this, and ideally I would not send you, but my hand is forced at the moment." He would much rather his son had chosen another path than the one he was treading now, though he was proud of him every time he watched Legolas leave with his bow in his hand. But this was almost too close for Legolas, and it was only the fact that there were few captains currently in the stronghold that could be spared that had made Thranduil send Legolas as well. His son was still young, still learning, and Thranduil merely hoped that he could continue to do so for a long time yet.

"I will try," said Legolas, once more making no promises. Thranduil smiled softly.

"Come home soon, ion," he said, and then turned and walked back inside, to where he would watch the company depart from the gates.

Legolas nodded, and turned around to find one of the captains making their way to him. "We're ready to move out," he said. Legolas nodded, and the captain moved off to make the final preparations, already shouting for the company to fall into order.

Belhadron made his way over to Legolas. "Stay safe," he said once more. His face was pale, and Legolas could see the beginning of cracks starting to form, but he said nothing of it.

"I will try," he promised. "We will return in a few weeks, no more."

"I will be fine without you here," replied Belhadron, a wry edge to his voice as he noted the reassurance in Legolas'. Legolas murmured something in reply, and then looked up as one of the captains signalled for him. With a final farewell, he turned from Belhadron.

"Oh, and Legolas?" called out Belhadron, his voice loud enough so that most of the elves could hear him. Legolas turned back to him, and there was a sudden anger slowly burning in the dark haired elf's eyes. "When you find them," he said. "Hunt them down, and make sure they can never lift a blade again."

0-o-0-o-0

He watched the company leave, his dark eyes watching the blond elf at the front until he disappeared from view amongst the trees. And then without a word, he turned and walked slowly back inside.

The next few weeks passed either excruciatingly slowly, or in a daze when he did not notice one day from the next. He could not tell the difference.

His parents arrived later that day, and he did not know what to say to them. Thankfully, the messenger had already told them everything that they needed to know, so he stayed silent, enduring his father's tears and continuous embraces, and his mother's silence and unsteadiness.

He buried his brother beside his parents, beside those who had become another part of his brother's life. And then he shattered beside the freshly turned earth, and waited for someone to pick him back up before he realised that he was on his own now, and that his parents had fractured to shards beside him. Picking himself back up and piecing himself together, he picked up the pieces surrounding him, and tried not to let his face show how he wished they could do the same.

Others came to him, asking for one thing or another, and each time he managed to distract himself for a while. But inevitably all tasks must come to an end, and then he was left again.

Though maybe that was unfair. More than once he fractured only for someone else to help hold himself together. And over the days it became easier. The cracks hardened, becoming less likely to break, like precious stones pieced together with veins of gold, such as the smiths could do. And though there were areas of weakness, he felt stronger.

It was a cruel thing, that he welcomed the distractions, welcomed forgetting it all. Sometimes it would enter his head as a statement, nothing more, but he welcomed forgetting everything attached. And it was selfish, but he wanted to live. He had promised.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas sighed wearily as he walked back towards the stronghold. They were so close now, and he thought he could see the great gates through the trees as the boughs shifted in the stiff breeze. It had been a long few weeks, with little sleep.

They arrived back to the stronghold with greetings from many of the warriors, as the news had spread ahead of them. They had gathered together, spilling out from the gates that had been flung open wide. It was mainly warriors, and to one side stood the hunting party that had been attacked, the wounded who had nevertheless made their way outside, and the friends of Amdar who had also been seeking revenge.

The company moved amongst them easily, Legolas and the other captains moving forwards towards their commanders to report. The King stood there also, his face ever impassive, but Legolas caught his eye and saw, for a brief moment, the relief that sat there.

It took a long while for everything to settle, for reports to be given and the few wounds received to be tended to. Legolas joined the other captains for the most part, and they reported to the King before returning to the large room that the captains had taken over long ago, fairly close to the gates.

Belhadron was seated at the large table in the middle of the room, talking quietly with another elf. As they entered he looked up, and then abruptly stilled.

Legolas walked over. "They're dead," he said. " All of them. We hunted them down."

Belhadron's expression didn't change much, but Legolas saw the vicious joy in his eyes. "Good," he said shortly. "Are you alright?"

"I am relatively unhurt," said Legolas. "A few scrapes and cuts, nothing much more." At that, Belhadron's eyes darkened slightly, and he gritted his teeth, but he let it pass. Legolas smiled ever so slightly at that. "We have a little work to do, and then we can retire," he said, coming to sit beside his friend at the table, the other captains to either side of them.

One captain pulled a battered piece of paper from his pack and spread it out on the table. "I was given this by a captain on the southern border who met us on the hunt," he said, filling in for those around the table who had not been there. "We have spiders creeping north, amongst other things, and they are asking for reinforcements. We need to decide on possible courses of actions before presenting it to the King."

There were audible groans around the table, mostly from those who had just arrived back and had had little chance to get rest or even change. A few of the captains chuckled, and Legolas smiled faintly, though he too was weary and wanted to rest.

Beside him, Belhadron didn't even grimace, and just reached across to grab a detailed map of Mirkwood. "In theory, how many could be sent?" he asked. Discussion amongst the captains started up as they forgot their weariness, and Belhadron occasionally interjected with a comment or question.

Legolas spoke himself, but spent a large portion of the hour or so they spent in that room watching Belhadron. He was different, had changed in the three weeks Legolas had been gone. His second had never been shy of speaking his own mind, though he was supposedly below most of those around the table in rank, but now he was driven, watching and listening so carefully that Legolas doubted he noticed that Legolas was watching him as well.

Finally they finished, and those who had just returned had no issue with sending the other captains to report to the King. Legolas pulled himself up from his chair with a wince as sore and tired muscles protested. Instantly Belhadron was on his feet.

"You said you were unhurt," he challenged, coming around to stand in front of Legolas. "What have you-"

Legolas held up one hand. "I said I am mostly unhurt, I said," he replied. "I am just weary, and want to go back to my rooms and rest." At those words, Belhadron gathered up his discarded quiver and weapons, handing the latter back to Legolas. With a weary smile, Legolas nodded goodbye at the remaining captains, and headed back to his chambers.

Once inside, and the door was shut, Legolas slumped. "I am fine," he said to Belhadron, who was subtly glaring at him as he stoked the fire in the grate. He shrugged out of his hunting tunic, laying it on the end of the bed.

He noticed that his rooms looked…lived in, and glanced over at Belhadron once more as he toed off his soft boots. Belhadron met his gaze, and then looked a little guiltily around the room. That was all the answer that Legolas needed. He remained silent, pulling off his thinner under tunic to get at the cuts and bruises across his arms and torso, and after a few moments Belhadron spoke.

"The…my rooms were too close," he said softly, standing from the hearth and moving over to Legolas. "Too many memories."

Legolas nodded. He didn't mind. "What of your parents?" he asked. "Are they still here?"

Belhadron laughed bitterly, crouching down to pull something out from under the bed. "You'd think that they would stay," he said dryly. "Apparently not." The wry smile turned into a grimace a little more, and anger began to heat his voice.

"They went back home about a week ago," he said. "Not that I blame them, as such. But still, they were gone quickly. Left both their sons behind, only this time one of them is in the ground instead of on the training fields." He shook his head. "They might have stayed, if I had asked, but they did not want to be here just as much as I wanted them gone. Nothing harder than trying to mend your cracks when the only two people who could be more cracked than you insist on staying around."

"At least you did not return with them, or I would have had to ride out and bring you back," said Legolas with a smile. He took the damp cloth Belhadron offered him and began to clean a shallow cut across his other arm. Belhadron chuckled at that.

"They asked," he said. "But I refused. Probably why they left so soon. Apparently I am not safe here." He scoffed. "As if I am safe anywhere else in this forest. Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed, and I am best suited for that, I think."

Legolas briefly chuckled. "You've done a good job so far."

"Better than I did for my brother," muttered Belhadron, but there was less ire in his voice. He wiped at his eyes with the back of one hand and shook his head. "Ignore me. I am fine."

"Of course," said Legolas sceptically. "You haven't changed at all."

"Oh, I've changed," replied Belhadron with a wry grin. "Even I have noticed it, so you must be blind not to. I think I have a right to be different. I cannot walk away from…such a thing without scars." He knew that now, and thought that maybe in these few weeks, he had begun to come to peace with it.

Dying had always been a likely option for them all. He wished it had not happened to his brother, but it had, and pleading to the Valar would change nothing. His brother was dead, but Belhadron had decided that he would not easily follow. A part of him thought it might be easier to do so, but a larger part of his mind rebelled at the very thought. He could not have even left the stronghold and gone back north, could not have left the people who he helped protect.

"I'm not going to leave," he said abruptly, and Legolas paused from cleaning the dirt from some abrasion to look over at him. Belhadron kept his gaze focused firmly on the other wall.

"I'm going to keep fighting under your command," he said. "I'm going to stay as your second. You have found whatever revenge I could have gotten already, and I do not want…" He paused, and ran a hand down his face. "I want to keep on living," he said. "I want to keep on fighting. And I'm going to keep my promise."

There was silence. Belhadron remained staring at the opposite wall, and suddenly Legolas spoke. Instead of the questions he had been expecting, the reassurances, the blond elf's voice was merely straightforward and clear, much like a captain addressing his second in command.

"Then I will reinstate you into active duty," he said. Legolas saw the slight surprise on Belhadron's face and smiled slightly. It was selfish of him, but he was so very glad that Belhadron's brother had died, and not Belhadron himself.

Belhadron looked over at him, his lips curling in a smile. "That was easy," he said.

Legolas shrugged. "If I believe you to be ready, then you will be ready. You have never given me cause to doubt you before. I trust that you will not do so now."

Belhadron laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "I made a promise. I intend to keep it."

0-o-0-o-0

"Ambush!"

The call went out as dark shapes crashed through the trees of Mirkwood, and hands that had already been straying near weapons suddenly leapt into action. The bright steel of swords sprang out of the gloom as the orcs rushed the company.

Legolas' knives were already in his hand and he darted forwards, sidestepping another elf and coming up to meet one of the first orcs. Already the woods around them were overrun, the twisted forest becoming even more so with the tangle of bodies amongst the gnarled trees. The shrouded boughs around them muffled the clear sound of their steel and dimmed the bright fire with which it burnt, until the sound was muffled and discordant.

Legolas lunged forwards, darting underneath the guard of one orc and coming up, his knives slicing at the unprotected throat. He hardly heard the gurgle and splatter of the spilt blood as he kicked the orc back, away from the midst of the fighting, and turned back towards it.

It seemed that the orcs had been unlucky, or simply stupid. Their numbers were even, and it wasn't the orcs who had spent decades, if not centuries, training for occasions such as this. Already close to a quarter of them were down, and from Legolas' quick glances when he had the attention to spare, it seemed that all of the elves on the patrol were still standing.

Belhadron was close beside him, his own sword flashing bright in his hands. Legolas spun at one point, pushing an orc into the dark-haired elf's path with a swift kick, and caught sight of Belhadron's expression for a brief moment. It was unlike the calculating look that they usually wore, the cold rage appearing as calm on the surface. His face was twisted in a rage and what Legolas, later on, would realise was also a vicious joy.

But they fell back into their patterns seamlessly, despite that this was the first time Belhadron had been in a skirmish since his brother had died. Belhadron moved swiftly around Legolas, covering his back when the blond elf was otherwise occupied.

It didn't take too long for the elves to fully gain the upper hand. Legolas paused in a slight lull in the fighting, pushing his blond hair back out of his face. Belhadron stood a little way away, drawing his sword from the chest of a fallen orc.

Legolas looked around, and suddenly he felt something change in the air around them. Instantly he turned, seeking whatever was a threat, and his hand went back to the arrows still remaining in his quiver.

A shout came from behind him, and Legolas spun on one heel. Belhadron barrelled into him, one arm grabbing Legolas around the waist and pulling him down, his other hand going up to shield Legolas' head. The blond elf ducked and rolled forwards on instinct, Belhadron knocking him to the ground.

Legolas heard a choked cry of pain from Belhadron and he scrambled to his feet, reaching for the dark haired elf and pulling him roughly to his feet. Belhadron grimaced but stood up quickly and his hand tightened around his sword as he turned to parry another incoming blow.

The fighting died down fairly quickly, the elves quickly gaining the upper hand and running down the few orcs that were brave enough to try and flee. The woods fell quiet, the ringing of steel finally stopping, replaced by merely the sound of the branches overhead in the stiff breeze.

There was a pause, as every elf stopped to check that the skirmish was indeed over, and then a breath of relief. Belhadron, who had been standing protectively in front of Legolas until the battle finished, doubled over, one hand going to his side. Legolas darted forwards to come around in front of him, propping him up.

"Are you alright?" asked Belhadron, looking up at Legolas. "Are you hurt?"

"Are you?" asked Legolas back, his voice concerned. "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing," said Belhadron, taking his hand back from his side. There was a long rip in his tunic, just beyond the protection of the leather armour. His hand was red with blood, and a dark stain was just creeping into the fabric either side of the tear. "A stray arrow."

"Is that why you knocked me down?" asked Legolas. "A stray arrow?" He shook his head. "Sit down and let me bandage it." He guided Belhadron to a relatively clear patch amongst the dead orcs and tangled trees, and Belhadron slumped slightly against the broad trunk of a tree. Legolas pulled a few strips of linen from his pack, and began to tightly bind the wound.

It wasn't until much later, after clearing up and returning to the stronghold, after reports and six stitches in Belhadron's side, that Legolas wandered into the healing wards, and sat down on the bed opposite Belhadron.

"I don't know why I am here," muttered Belhadron with a grimace. "It's only six stitches."

"Precisely because you have six stitches in your side, and they want to keep an eye on you for an hour or two," replied Legolas. He shifted, resting his arms on his legs where he sat. "Are you alright?"

"As you just said, I have six stitches in my side," said Belhadron wryly. "I could be better. But then, I could be even more tied together with thread, or you could be hurt instead. Overall, I am fine."

"So you knocked me down to stop me getting hurt," said Legolas. "Hannon le. But I don't want you risking your life for me, mellon-nin." He knew, at least on the surface, why Belhadron had knocked him down, and he was grateful, but at the same time he did not want to see his friend hurt because he was more concerned with Legolas' life rather than his own.

"I can't see you get hurt," replied Belhadron, and this time his voice was serious. "It's my job to protect you."

"No, it is your job to be my second in command," countered Legolas. "Not to get yourself killed trying to make sure that I don't. I hate to tell you this, but there is a likely chance we will both be dead long before the end of this all."

"I won't-" Belhadron sighed, and then lowered the volume of his voice.

"I won't get myself killed watching out for you," he said. "I know that you think I'm doing this out of some too late revenge for my brother's death, or that I'm not yet thinking straight. I know you are tempted to take me back off active duty again, which would honestly be a mistake. But you are wrong. I want to be busy. Being busy makes it easier to forget."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "I won't pretend to know what is going through your mind," he said. "What has been going through your mind for the past six weeks. I know you have not talked about it much at all since returning to duty three weeks ago. I'm not going to ask. You know I am here. But I still do not want to see you hurt, because somehow you see it as a better option to me being hurt. You are worth more than that."

Belhadron growled under his breath. "You don't exactly understand," he said. "I know what I'm worth. I'm your second in command. I'm a warrior. I know how to fight, and that if that is what I can do, then I will do it. But that isn't the point." Belhadron paused, and hung his head. His next words were soft.

"I wasn't there for my brother. I failed him. I'm not going to fail you."

There was silence. Legolas ran a hand through his hair. "I doubt you ever will," he said softly. "Just…I don't want you getting hurt, mellon-nin."

"I'm not going to be a hero," replied Belhadron, a wry grin coming across his face. "In all the tales, the heroes are always the ones who end up dead. And I don't want to be killed. I just want to try and keep you alive."

Legolas laughed. "Given with what is ahead of us, that may end up being rather difficult."

Belhadron shook his head. "Given what is behind me, I am sure that I can face whatever is ahead. I've broken a lot of my promises, a lot of the ones that I made to Amdar. But I promised him that I would make him proud, and so far I do not think that I have broken that one promise. So I am going to keep it for as long as I can. I have spent enough time mourning."

Legolas nodded. "As long as you do not take too many foolish risks," he said. "Asking for none is impractical, as this is you, but few risks would be appreciated."

Belhadron laughed, and then winced as it pulled at his stitches. "I was wrong," he said abruptly. "When I said that time should have stopped. That was a mistake." He chuckled slightly, and there was no hint of bitterness in his voice as he spoke again.

"He died, and I will live with that. And nothing will stop everything from continuing on when my brother cannot. But then there is nothing to stop me, as well."

Belhadron smiled softly, and the weight that had slowly been lifting from his shoulders, ever since Legolas had first caught him as he had fallen, became just a little bit lighter. He looked up at his friend.

"I will continue," he said. "And I will remember. And I think that will be enough."

0-o-0-o-0

Grief is not permanent. Grief is not stationary, because time cannot be stationary. For time to stop goes against its very nature. The living need it to continue, and with that the grief, no matter how painful, cannot become frozen and stop you in your tracks.

It may seem that continuing, following the path under your feet, is unfair, when another no longer has such a path at all. But pain does not stop you from moving unless you let it, and you can remember whilst walking forwards at the same time.

Maybe that will be enough.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> 'The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.'
> 
> -J.R.R. Tolkien


End file.
